


Si Vis Amari, Ama

by pyrokinetic loser (commonghost)



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Pining, actually you know what i think i might stay, ive fallen into the brony rabbit hole oh gods how do i get out, okay listen this is just bronte pining for emery, thats it thats the whole oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commonghost/pseuds/pyrokinetic%20loser
Summary: Bronte knows the feelings slowly blooming and unraveling in his heart aren’t right. He knows that he shouldn’t look at Emery in the way he does, that he shouldn’t feel his breath catch in his throat every time he speaks to him.It doesn’t stop Bronte from wishing for a softer future, wishing for just a singular ‘I love you’ from the man he can’t help but love and the ability to say it back.
Relationships: Councillor Bronte & Councillor Emery (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Councillor Bronte/Councillor Emery (Keeper of the Lost Cities)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Si Vis Amari, Ama

**Author's Note:**

> This is...the fluffiest thing I've ever written. And its still sad. Why do I do this to myself.  
> Anyways guess who fell down the brony rabbit hole??? I love y'all thank you so much for this.

Bronte knows the feelings slowly blooming and unraveling in his heart aren’t right. He knows that he shouldn’t look at Emery in the way he does, that he shouldn’t feel his breath catch in his throat every time he speaks to him.

Because Bronte knows what the world will ask for if they find out. How the society he helped create would not hesitate to shun him, would not hesitate to throw him out if he didn’t fit their perfect mold. They’d tear him apart and toss him aside, and they would never trust Emery again.

Bronte might be okay with damning his world to be ruined, but he wouldn’t push it onto Emery. He wouldn’t put Emery through a hell he never asked for, a hell he might even advocate for if it were someone else.

It doesn’t stop Bronte from wishing for a softer future, wishing for just a singular _‘I love you’_ from the man he can’t help but adore and the ability to say it back.

But Bronte stays content in watching from afar, keeping the tight knot in his chest under layers of freezing indifference. He understands that this love is forbidden, that Emery doesn’t see him in the same way, that he will never be truly fulfilled.

Bronte dreams of Emery even after he gives up. He dreams of deep sapphire blue and strong arms and a warm smile, and when he wakes up he’s never felt so alone. He feels isolation cling to him as he gets ready, the bone-deep exhaustion of love heavy on his shoulders.

As the centuries drag on, as the years Emery and Bronte share on the Council pass by, Bronte tells himself it will be over soon. It will be over soon and he will never have to think of love again. He will never envy Oralie and Kenric again, obvious and reciprocating in their affection. He will never feel the gaping hole in his chest grow wider with each passing day. He will never have to bear the burden of devotion, he will never have to live with tenderness, he will never have to love again once his feelings pass.

The feelings stay. They linger. They carve out intricate shapes in Bronte’s being, leaving him cold and hurt and confused at every new turn. Bronte feels a piece missing, feels the familiar ache of abandonment beating against his ribcage, begging to be set free. Begging to be seen and held and loved. But Bronte does not need love. He doesn’t need anything but himself. 

Oh, Gods, tell him he doesn’t need anything but himself.

The skies stay unbearably silent.


End file.
